The Executor
by 7137
Summary: When Kiritsugu found Shirou, he wasted no time in transferring Avalon to Shirou to save his life. What if Kirei was lying in wait, and used his opportunity to kill Kiritsugu? What if he then decided to raise Shirou as his own? Years later, Shirou Kotomine must assist his father in the 5th Holy Grail War, all the while harboring intentions of his own.
1. 0: Prologue

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own Fate/Stay Night or any other elements of the Nasuverse. If I did, then instead of reading this fanfic you would be watching a spinoff.**

 **A/N: This was one of the many ideas that resulted from the thought of Shirou being a competent and trained mage when entering the Holy Grail War. Hope you like it!**

* * *

The world was on fire. Ash clinged to the charred ground like gently fallen snow. All around him, buildings creaked and cracked as they were licked at by the never relenting flames. Scorching, stifling heat filled the air as much as the smoke filled his lungs. He lay there among the wreckage, staring blankly skyward, already knowing that he had no chance of surviving this catastrophe. This wasn't a fire. It wasn't a conflagration. It was something more, something which would burn everyone and everything to ash, something indescribable in the words of man. He could feel the flames closing in on him, hunting him as if they had a mind of their own. The others had already been consumed, their dying screams teetering off long ago. But all he could think about was the hole in the sky.

It was the blackest thing he'd ever seen, like no light could possibly penetrate its murky depths. Its very presence distorted the air around it, turning it into a sort of ring, centered around that black sun. But unlike a black hole, it didn't swallow anything. Instead, destruction fell from it, molten flames spilling down to the Earth, the heavens raining down fire on the city he used to call home.

And then the hole was concealed by smog, and when it faded, it was as if it was never there to begin with, the only sign of its existence being the destruction surrounding him, pervading him. He could feel the heat, the terror, the death, but it meant nothing. It held no meaning anymore, not when he was dying too. But still, he felt indignant that the source of this destruction, this chaos, was no longer here. The result was horrible. But the source itself had been beautiful.

A figure came into his vision. It was a man dressed in black clothes, tears of joy in his eyes as the man gripped the boy's hand, cradling it to his cheek, all the while repeatedly muttering gratitude. And the boy found himself jealous of this stranger, who was able to smile so widely from the very depths of his soul. He didn't understand it. Why was this man so happy? How could he be so happy? Why couldn't he feel the same?

Golden light spilled from the man, filling the boy with a warm feeling as the light invaded his body, chasing away the darkness and pain. He could breathe easier, he didn't feel so light-headed, and the burns covering his body felt less scorching.

And then the man fell, smile still upon his face, a dagger erupting from his chest. The man landed beside him, and as the light left his eyes, he once again muttered his thanks.

A new man filled his vision, a smile upon his face as well. It was wrong. This wasn't the same smile he'd seen on the other man, of joy and overwhelming belief. It was wrong, plain and simple, a twisting depraved grin, his eyes reflecting the surrounding fire and destruction. The man laughed a low deep laugh, and still chuckling, kissed the cross hanging from his neck.

* * *

 **A/N: And the prologue is complete. Rest assured, the actual chapters will be much longer. I plan on continuing this for at least a few chapters but ultimately it will depend on reactions from readers. Reviews help and I will get more of the story out the more praise I get.**

 **Read, review, and trace on.**


	2. 1: Halcyon Days, Part 1 (10 YEARS AGO)

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own** _ **Fate/Stay Night**_ **or any other elements of the Nasuverse. If I did, then instead of reading this fanfic, you would be watching a spinoff.**

 **A/N: Greetings and salutations, fellow fic fanatics! I would have liked to have published this much sooner, but was unfortunately kept INSANELY busy these past few weeks (curse you, writer's block! I shall have VENGEANCE!) and am writing a large chunk of this while sick in bed. I could give you a bunch of valid and true reasons for why this took so long to write, but that would take up another whole chapter. On the bright side, the site FINALLY let me upload a few pictures! This update was actually going to be much longer, but my beta reader, Cardinal Grief, persuaded me to split it up. I still wanted all of the parts to fall under one section though, so this update and the next few will all be separate yet still be parts of one chapter. I do not expect to do this method again, but might if you readers like it. I will try to update again within the next few days, but as I have proven, I am not always very punctual with updates, especially since I am still kind of figuring out my regular format for stories.**

 **Anyway, a little explanation into the story would probably be good. As you have probably guessed by now, without the goal of becoming a hero of justice, and with being raised by Kirei instead of Kiritsugu, Shirou's personality will be drastically different from canon in this story, and so will his reality marble, aria, and overall abilities as a result. I am saying this now so that I do not get any reviews or PMs later ranting about how the powers this Shirou displays only vaguely resemble those he has in canon.**

 **This chapter is entirely exposition, taking place before the Fifth Holy Grail War, and taking little snapshots of Shirou's life while he is raised as an executor by Kirei. It will almost definitely be much longer than the other chapters (and I mean the entire chapter, not its parts), but the typical length of chapters still remains to be decided (I typically do much shorter chapters). It was actually going to be even longer, but then I realized that I could probably write another chapter just on the stuff that I am cutting out of this one. If you watched the** _ **Fate/Zero**_ **Anime (so good!), then you should like a few bits of this part as I took them from it with a few minor adjustments. I hope the wait was worth it!**

 **EDIT: This edit is an attempt to close up the holes FoxOnPie has pointed out.**

 **FoxOnPie -** While I do hate implausible stories, and I thank you for taking the time to critique my work, I don't think this story is as implausible as you think it is. For one thing, many fanfics take a very different route from canon all based on a single decision. In this case, that was Kirei's decision of not going after Kiritsugu changing to following him and waiting for an ideal opportunity to kill him, provided by Kiritsugu being distracted by Shirou and giving him Avalon. Now onto why he did it in front of Shirou. If you look closely, you'll find there's nothing to suggest he DID see Shirou before he killed Kiritsugu, especially as Shirou didn't see him until Kiritsugu was already dead, hidden as he was while Kiritsugu leaned over him. Now, let's say he did see Shirou. That would explain why he waited until Kiritsugu had transferred Avalon (even if he didn't know that was what healed him); because he saw him doing it, and could guess that without it he would be much easier to kill. And there's still the fact that most people, especially children, tend to repress memories after experiencing a traumatic event, which I think this definitely qualifies for. In addition, it would be relatively simple to hypnotize Shirou into forgetting a recent memory.

"Dialogue" - "SHOUTING AT TOP OF LUNGS"

 _Thoughts/Flashback/Exaggeration_

" **Magecraft** "

* * *

 **Chapter 1.1**

 **Halcyon Days**

 **TEN YEARS AGO**

Illya's eyes shot open, and she sat up in her red four-poster bed. "Daddy…" she said.

" _Illyasviel_ ," she heard her mother's concerned voice. " _What's wrong?_ "

Illya answered, tears in her eyes, "I had a really scary dream. A dream where…" She pulled the covers up to her shoulders. "… where I become a really big cup. And then I dreamed that these seven gigantic lumps started to come into my body. It felt like they were going to tear me apart." Her small voice shaking, she continued, "It's really scary. But I can't run away. And then, I hear the voice of Lady Justeaze. After that, a big black hole opens up above my head. And then, the world burns.

"Daddy looks at it all and just… begins to cry." Slipping out of the bed and looking out the window at the snowstorm, Illya asked, "Mother, is Daddy OK? Is he scared and alone? Is he in trouble?"

" _It's OK. Daddy's doing the best he can for you. He'll make certain that our prayers are realized. So you'll never have to be scared again, Illyasviel._ "

Illya looked over her shoulder and nodded. "That's right." She looked back out at the snow. "I know he will." A smile on her face, she said assuredly, "Daddy promised he would come back, and he always keeps his promises." She turned, going back to the bed. "Daddy always works very hard. He'll finish all of his important work, and he'll come home as soon as he possibly can."

* * *

Kariya closed the door to the basement behind him. Gripping his left arm, he limped forward. "Hey, Sakura," he said.

The little girl before him turned her head to look at him. "Uncle?" she asked emotionlessly. She had short violet hair and empty purple eyes matching her purple dress.

The worms writhed in the pit below them, and Kariya had to stifle the urge to vomit. He winced as the worms inside him began to react to his discomfort, only increasing his pain. Maybe after he saved Sakura, he could do something about the vermin infesting him.

"I'm here to save you. It's OK now." He took her hand. "Let's go."

* * *

 _Rin turned, a gasp escaping her lips. Tears of joy brimming in her eyes, she said, "It's Sakura!" She ran forward to hug her sister. "Sakura! Sakura! Sakura!" She cried on her little sister's shoulder._

 _Kariya smiled._

" _Kariya," someone behind him said. He turned to see Aoi, looking lovely as always._

" _Hi, Aoi," he said._

" _Thank you, Uncle Kariya!" Kariya turned back to look at Sakura and Rin. He was so happy. He felt like he had control of the left side of his body again._

" _Thank you so much," Sakura said softly._

 _The two sisters looked at each other. Sakura nodded. They looked at him, twin smiles on their faces and hands on their hearts, and said in unison, "Daddy Kariya!"_

* * *

Sakura stared at the slumped, prostrated body of Kariya. His chest had stopped its rise and fall mere moments ago. He slid down the basement stairs and into the pit, becoming buried under the worms even as they consumed his flesh.

"You're such a fool," Sakura said emotionlessly. "Never disobey Grandfather."

* * *

Artoria knelt on a hill. Swords and knights and spears littered the ground around her. She said sadly, "I'm here… again." Her breath hitched as tears fell on her lap. Who knew if she'd ever get another chance?

"Everyone. Lance…" The sobs racked her body. "… Lancelot."

She remembered the last words he'd spoken to her, " _Because I could not stop myself from loving Guinevere, I was never able to forgive myself._ "

Artoria screamed.

" _But, King Arthur, you never once spoke of my many sins. You never sought atonement from me. You simply continued to stand before us in your righteousness. But deep in my heart, I desired judgement at your hands. Had your anger judged me, had your righteousness condemned me, I might not have fallen onto the path of madness in my quest to atone and save my immortal soul._ "

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I… I am unworthy," she sobbed. She should have stepped down the moment Caliburn shattered.

" _But this much I can say with certainty: King Arthur…_ "

"One day, friend, I will claim the Grail."

"… _you were the greatest of all kings who ever lived. All of those at the Round Table who served you…_ "

"It was not I…"

"… _felt the same._ "

"… who should have been king."

* * *

Shirou and Kirei stared across at each other. Shirou's gaze was unblinking and completely emotionless, while Kirei had an almost indiscernible frown. It was Kirei who broke the silence first. "Tea?" he offered, lifting a kettle. Shirou cocked his head, deliberating, before giving a simple nod. They sat at a table in the kitchen located in the back of the Fuyuki Church, candlelight illuminating their features.

In the wake of his wish resulting in the Fuyuki Fire, Kirei had spotted Kiritsugu among the still burning wreckage. At first, he'd assumed Kiritsugu was challenging him to another fight to the death. But instead, the man had turned away, searching through the rubble. For what, Kirei still did not know. What Kirei did know was that Kiritsugu had broken, his eyes more soulless than ever, silent, unnoticed tears streaming down his face, mindlessly doing everything he could to salvage something from the catastrophe. What Kirei did know was that he'd found the man's misery and torment absolutely delicious.

Almost without knowing it, he'd followed Kiritsugu, not wanting this feast of lament and suffering to ever end. He was sure Kiritsugu had noticed him at least four different times, yet the assassin had made no move to stop him. Instead, he would turn back to the rubble, pawing through it until he realized there was no one there who was still living, then moving on to repeat the process.

This monotony had gradually served to diminish the wonderful taste of the man's sorrow, and Kirei had just about decided to simply kill him when something unexpected happened. Kiritsugu, so broken, so depressed, had _smiled_. It was the sort of smile Kirei had once wished he could experience even just one time. And Kirei knew that there would be no better opportunity to end his life. After his sprits being raised so high from being so low, it would be pure euphoria to watch those spirits fall even lower as the life left him. And so he'd taken the opportunity.

Kirei was disappointed that instead of Kiritsugu's spirits crashing yet again, they remained high and carefree, even as he gave his last breath, a muttered thank you to the boy he'd been huddling over. After that, Kirei was admittedly unsure what to do with the boy he'd later come to call Shirou. Eventually, he'd decided to hypnotize and observe him, if only to see if he could get any amusement out of this boy's quite obviously damaged psyche. For some reason, this boy had been far more traumatized by the experience than any of the other survivors, emerging from the flames an empty shell of a human being.

And so Kirei had used hypnosis on Shirou to force him to forget the incident and think he'd just been adopted by Kirei. The boy had apparently forgotten his last name, along with everything else before the fire, and so had taken upon the name of Kotomine. The hypnotism had proven to be… more difficult than he'd imagined it would be.

When a mage was under the influence of another's magecraft, their magic circuits would work to flush the alien od out of their system, much like how antibodies would fight alien bacteria. This was the source of the difficulty. When he couldn't immediately hypnotize the boy, he'd performed structural analysis to learn that Shirou apparently possessed magic circuits. Twenty-seven in fact, which was above the average amount for a mage, and they were of above-average quality as well. He didn't possess nearly as many as Rin, nor were they as high-quality, but the point still stood that it was very unlikely for some random boy to have such excellent circuits. Unless, of course, he wasn't just some random boy.

Magic circuits were what made mages immune to many spells. Even offensive spells were just a little bit less effective against a mage than a regular person. And even powerful forms of hypnotism could become weak against even the feeblest of mages. Kirei had had to put more effort into the magecraft than was probably safe for either him or Shirou for it to be effective. There was only one requirement for this function to apply: the magic circuit had to be currently active, which also meant it had to have been opened beforehand for the task to be performed.

Somehow, one of Shirou's magic circuits had already been opened. And if Kirei was judging it correctly, then it had been opened fairly recently too. The most likely explanation was that during the fire, Shirou's will to live had instinctively allowed him to open a circuit in a subconscious effort to survive.

After finishing the hypnosis, he'd brought Shirou back to the church while Kirei started on other business. There were plenty of children orphaned by the fire. He'd managed to adopt most of them, erasing any records of their existence, and had locked them in the church basement to act as Gilgamesh's new supply of prana. Said walking lightbulb was currently doing whatever he did when not "gracing Kirei with the pleasure of his presence".

Three days had passed since then, and he still needed to decide what to do with Shirou. If he became part of Gilgamesh's prana supply, he'd no doubt provide more prana than all of the other children combined. If the rest of Shirou's circuits were opened, then he could probably support Gilgamesh all by himself, and still have energy to spare since Gilgamesh would only use that energy when utilizing his Noble Phantasm, his trump card and greatest weapon. On second thought, he may not be able to be Gilgamesh's sole provider, after all. The King of Heroes had an unfortunate habit of overusing the Gate of Babylon.

 _It would be a smart decision,_ Kirei thought. But he was still loath to go through with it. It just seemed so… unimaginative. So uninteresting. So _boring_. And if there was one thing Kirei had learned in the weeks of the Holy Grail War, it was that life was to be enjoyed, and boredom was the enemy of enjoyment.

And the fact that he had magic circuits was only the beginning when it came to Shirou Kotomine. After the fire, he'd sustained numerous third-degree burns, all of which should never have fully healed, and would likely scar even with the application of Kirei's proficient healing magecraft. It had taken no more than an hour for all of the burns to disappear as if they had never existed. He hadn't even had to be taken to the hospital.

Presumably, this mysterious healing factor had something to do with whatever Kiritsugu had implanted in the boy before being killed by Kirei. He hadn't actually seen the boy until Kiritsugu was already dead, hunched over the child as he was, but he had seen the golden light leave Kiritsugu's body, and had taken that moment to strike. During their fight, Kiritsugu had somehow healed his own ruptured heart. If he could do that within seconds, treating burns was certainly feasible. But what was it? Some sort of mystic code? And why did it take so long to heal no longer life threatening injuries as opposed to healing a fatal one so quickly?

But he kept coming back to the same dilemma: _What to do with Shirou Kotomine?_ He raised the teacup to his lips, hiding his mouth as it twisted into a smile. Of course! It was so obvious! And what could possibly provide better entertainment?

"Shirou…" Kirei began. "What would you think if I told you I was a mage?"

The redhead cocked his head, considering his answer. He said bluntly, "I don't remember any priests, but you're probably the worst one I've ever met."

* * *

Zouken Matou was a shriveled old man. He had beady black eyes and white pupils, and gave off an aura of filth and wrongness. He'd long ago lost count of how many executors and enforcers had attempted to kill him, wrongly thinking he was a dead apostle. He may have technically been a vampire, but comparing him to those things still made him all the more vindictive when he educated those fools.

He tapped his fingers against his wooden cane. Kariya had failed him. That was to be expected, of course. As if some third-rate photographer who hadn't learned any magecraft in his entire life could possibly win something as deadly as the Holy Grail War. But now the Holy Grail was in turmoil.

Kiritsugu Emiya had won the Grail, but like a fool had attempted to destroy it. So what if it was tainted? It could still grant wishes, and only an idiot would pass that up. The fool hadn't even realized that the Holy Grail was still intact, and only the Lesser Grail had been destroyed. But as it was destroyed, Kirei Kotomine had apparently made a wish that resulted in the deaths of almost five hundred people, with more corpses being dragged out of the rubble every day. Of course, the deaths of thousands of innocents wouldn't so much as make Zouken blink, but it would certainly draw attention. And that was only the tip of the iceberg.

With the Lesser Grail destroyed before the manifestation of the Greater Grail, almost all of the prana it had gathered was still collected and unused. The consequences could be disastrous. The next Grail War could happen early. Or it might have more than seven Servants. Or perhaps two wishes might be granted instead of one.

Regardless, the next Grail War promised to be even more dangerous than the ones preceding it. Kotomine, who had, thanks to the Grail, survived a bullet through the heart, was preparing for the next War. His Servant Archer had gained a body of flesh and blood after bathing in the waters of the Holy Grail. Kotomine had also taken in a boy who Zouken could only assume was meant to be Kotomine's apprentice. A Master surviving the Holy Grail War was dangerous enough. Said Master preparing for the next one was infinitely more so. And to top it all off, Kotomine was already inclined to dislike Zouken.

Speaking of Masters surviving the War, there was also Waver Velvet to consider. Although the boy had seemed relatively timid when Zouken sent his familiars to watch him, a free wish was a hard thing to forget. It could very well be that the Velvet boy would make his own preparations for the next War.

Then there was Rin Tohsaka. Since her father had died, she would be uneducated in the Holy Grail War along with some magecraft. But another ignorant Master could very well prove as hazardous as it was fortuitous.

The Einzberns would doubtlessly prepare Emiya's daughter to be the next Master, and could therefore reap the benefits of both a human and homunculus mage.

Then there was Zouken's own situation. He had already implanted the shards of the Lesser Grail into Sakura, so he had at least that advantage. But other than himself and Sakura, the Matous had no potential Masters for the next War. He'd hoped to use the child Sakura would one day bear, but if the War occurred earlier than expected, that would be infeasible. Even if he could, who was she to breed with? Shinji? The boy didn't have a single magic circuit; he would make horrible breeding stock.

How could he turn this situation to his advantage? His shriveled lips quirked upwards as he gave a mad cackle. Sakura was excellent breeding stock, true, but so was her mother. Sakura had numerous magic circuits, all of them high-quality to boot. If the Holy Grail War did commence early, then she would prove to be an excellent Master.

But first he'd need energy. He hobbled out of the Matou Mansion, smiling wickedly up at the starless sky. Who would be his meal?

* * *

Shirou grunted as he was knocked flat on his back, the air escaping from his lungs and leaving him gasping for oxygen. Shakily, he got back to his feet, placing himself into the stance Kirei had taught him. Sweat was pouring down the redhead's face in rivulets, while Kirei was barely winded.

"You are very stubborn in getting back up after being knocked down," Kirei said. "Why?"

"Are you saying I shouldn't be…" He sent his right fist forward in a jab. "… persistent?"

Kirei tucked in his elbows, grabbing Shirou's hand. "There is persistence…" He bent Shirou's arm beneath his crossed arms, crouching and forcing Shirou to his knees. "… and then there is stubbornness."

Kirei released the arm, and Shirou quickly stood up and backpedaled. Suddenly, Shirou punched with his left arm. Kirei grabbed the arm, using the boy's own inertia to force the arm behind his back even as Kirei's leg struck the back of the boy's knees, sending him crashing to the ground. "So why are you being so stubborn?" Kirei kept the pressure up, bending his adopted son's arm in a way that it would break if Shirou made even the slightest move, pinning the other wrist to the floor. Even Kirei had known to call it quits when caught in this hold, so Shirou should too.

Shirou said through gritted teeth, "I guess I just like a challenge." The redhead wrenched to the side, completely heedless of the sickening crunch of his own arm breaking. His stable purchase lost, Kirei tilted to the left, releasing Shirou's pinned wrist and landing on his back. Shirou whirled around, ramming the elbow of his uninjured arm into Kirei's nose.

* * *

 _She stood atop a timber platform, logs piled around and under it. Her arms were tied behind her to a tall wooden pillar. A wooden cross hung from her neck, given to her by a weeping Englishman after they'd taken away her cross. Surrounding her was a throng of people, some silent, some weeping, and some jeering at her. A priest stood among them, listing the crimes she'd committed._

 _All the while, she prayed, murmuring over and over the names of the Lord and Holy Mother. This seemed to enrage some of the crowd, increasing the intensity of their insults as they denounced her prayers as false. This confused her, of course. A prayer was a prayer, after all. No matter to whom was prayed, the prayer could contain neither truth nor falsehood._

 _As they hurled more and more insults, one man hurled a rock as well. It hit her on the temple just above her brow, sending stars through her vision and hot blood pouring down her cheek. As she blinked away the blurry vision, she did not cry out or stop praying. Others began to follow the man's lead, throwing small stones at her, though most missed._

 _The priest finally completed the recitation of her final judgement. He held up a torch, a soldier setting it alight. The priest threw the torch onto the pyre at her feet, the fire beginning to eat away at the dry timber. The flames consumed the wood, licking at her feet, eventually catching on the ligneous pillar she was bound to. As she was enveloped in the fire, not once did she scream or even cry, treating the pain as if it were nonexistent. As her flesh was burned and scorched, her lungs filling with smoke, she merely said, "O' Lord, I give myself to you." And as she was enveloped in flame, the world was enveloped in darkness._

* * *

Laeticia awoke with a start. Sweat, glistening in the moonlight streaming through the window, was pouring down her face as she rapidly gasped for breath. One hand went to her heart, while the other grasped a cross. As she calmed down, her breathing returning to normal, she couldn't help but wonder, _What was that strange dream?_

* * *

Shirou fidgeted in his stiff suit. He was fine with wearing the pectoral cross, and had even taken to wearing it without being told, but he couldn't stand these restricting clothes. It had been almost half a year since Kirei had opened the rest of Shirou's magic circuits and told him of and begun instructing him in magecraft and fighting. Although Shirou proved incapable of some of the most basic magecraft, he'd immediately taken to reinforcement. He'd been told by Kirei that he was a reinforcement prodigy for one so young. Which was why he was loath to be attending a funeral instead of busily perfecting his skills.

For the thousandth time, he shifted uncomfortably, pulling at the too-tight collar of his shirt.

"Hey," a girl's soft voice came from behind him. He turned to see a girl about his age, her eyes downcast. She had bright blue-green eyes and twin ponytails of hair so dark it was almost black. She wore a green school uniform and was holding her left arm as if it hurt. The girl said, "My name is Rin Tohsaka."

"Hello," Shirou replied.

There was silence for a few moments before the girl asked angrily, "Don't you know you're supposed to introduce yourself when you meet someone?!"

Shirou cocked his head, further confused when the girl flinched back as if she had been struck, a blush coloring her cheeks. _Curious,_ he thought. "No, I did not," he apologized. He held out his hand for her to shake. "My name is Shirou Kotomine."

Her hand midway to shake his, she blanched. "Kotomine?" she asked. "Any relation to Kirei Kotomine?"

Shirou nodded. "He recently adopted me."

Puffing her cheeks, Rin inspected him. "Well, you don't seem too much like Kirei. You and I might be capable of becoming friends after all."

"Yay?" he said, unsure.

Rin lifted a hand to her chin. "But why would Kirei adopt anyone? I thought he hated children." She glanced at him suspiciously. "Do you have… circuits?" she whispered.

He cocked his head. "Do you mean magic circuits? If so, then yes, I do."

She clamped her hand over his mouth. "Quiet!" she hissed. "People will hear you. Don't you know you're supposed to keep magecraft a secret?"

A man's soft voice said, "Ah, Rin, I see you've met Shirou." They turned to see Kirei.

Rin looked at Kirei, to her hand still clamped over Shirou's mouth, then back to Kirei. Blushing, she hid her hands behind her back. She muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, "Damn you, Kirei."

"Come along, you two," Kirei said. "We wouldn't want to be late for your father's ceremony, now would we, Rin?"

Rin suddenly went very quiet. Shirou thought, _This is her father's funeral?_

"No," Rin said softly. "We wouldn't."

As they walked outside of the dry funeral home and into the Graveyard being drizzled upon, Kirei asked, "So, Shirou, what do you think of Rin?"

Shirou listed, "She is rude, bossy, moody, and very pretty."

Rin seethed, "Rude?! Bossy?! Moody?!" Her face turned beet red as she stared at the ground and asked shyly, "You think I'm pretty?"

* * *

"I know that my redeemer lives," Kirei intoned. "And that, in the end, He will stand upon the Earth. And though, after my skin, worms destroy this body, yet in my flesh…" He looked at Rin, raindrops in her hair, as she stared at the grave before them. "… shall I see God. I myself shall see Him with mine own eyes. I, and not another." He looked at Shirou, the boy blankly gazing at the grave of a man he never knew. "How my heart yearns within me. Amen." He closed the Holy Bible with an audible click.

* * *

Shirou stood beside Rin as they watched the last funeral goers walk back to their cars. She had been very subdued since the ceremony. Shirou broke the silence, "I am sorry."

Rin looked at the young boy she had befriended. He had said it without even a hint of warmth or emotion, yet she could tell he meant it.

Shoes clicked against the cobblestone behind them. "Rin," Kirei said. Both Rin and Shirou turned to look at the man. "It was an excellent debut for the young new head of the Tohsaka Family. Your late father would have been very pleased with you today. Well done."

Rin glared sullenly at him.

Staring at her left arm, Kirei continued, "You haven't grown fully accustomed to your crest yet, I see." Rin gripped her arm tighter. "Does it hurt?" The corners of his lips were expectantly turned ever so slightly upwards.

"It's nothing," Rin said softly. "I'm fine."

His lips returning to their typical grimace, Kirei said, "It seems that Tokiomi's preparations for you were flawless. I imagine that all the magecraft the Tohsaka Family has accumulated will pass to you without incident." His eyes turned to gaze past them. "Well, why don't you go and fetch your mother now?"

Rin said crisply, "Yes. I'll do that." She turned away.

Shirou watched as Rin walked over to a woman in a light green dress in a wheelchair, an umbrella shielding her from the drizzle. The woman had olive green hair, narrow features, and distant olive green eyes. Rin said gently, "Come on, Mother… let's say our last goodbye to Father."

"A-ah, Rin?" the woman asked shakily, her voice breathy and light. "Is it someone's funeral today?"

Wheeling the woman forward, the wheels squeaking against the cobblestones, Rin answered, "That's right, Mother. Father died."

"Oh, dear…" the woman said. "Then I should take out Tokiomi's black suit."

Shirou stared confusedly. Wasn't Tokiomi Rin's father? Why was the woman talking as if he were still alive?

Turning her head back to look at Rin, the woman said, "Oh, and Rin, help Sakura get changed, will you?"

 _Sakura?_ Shirou wondered. _Who is Sakura?_

The woman pressed her hands to her own chest. "My, what should I do? I have to get myself ready to go, too." Staring ahead at someone who wasn't there, she said, "Goodness, dear, your necktie isn't on straight." She giggled. "You need to look good. After all, you're the father of Sakura and Rin."

For a few moments, silence reigned, before Kirei said to Shirou and Rin, "I have to go away. I'll be leaving Japan again for awhile. Shirou, you will be staying over at Rin's house until I return. Do you have any immediate concerns?"

Shirou shook his head. Even if he wouldn't be able to learn any new magecraft, he knew he would have plenty of time to practice his reinforcement. And maybe Rin could teach him some of the nuances of magecraft Kirei had neglected.

Looking away from the man she so despised, Rin said, "None at all! I don't need your help for anything!"

"We will next meet six months from now." He said to Rin, "At that time, I will conduct the second crest transplantation. Take care that you are in peak physical condition when I return."

"I know, you don't need to tell me!" Rin said bitterly.

"Rin, you are now the head of the Tohsaka Family both in name and reality." Taking a wrapped dagger out from his pocket, he continued, "And to commemorate this day, I'd like to offer you a very special gift." He placed the dagger in her pale, petite hands. "An azoth dagger." Rin began to unwrap the binding around the blade. "When my master acknowledged the results of my training and declared it finally complete, he presented this to me." Rin gazed at the weapon, turning it over in her hands. "But given the circumstances, I think you should have it."

Rin gave a small gasp as she realized the meaning of his words. Her eyes glistening, she asked shakily, "This was… my father's…?" Tears fell on the blade, which, unbeknownst to her, had once been drowned in her father's blood.

Kirei smiled cruelly.

Shirou watched.

* * *

Illya stood resolutely before her grandfather, Jubstacheit von Einzbern, nicknamed Old Man Acht, her childish features set in determination. "Where is my daddy?" she demanded.

Acht snorted, turning away. "The traitor is not worth your time, Illyasviel. Go back to your room."

 _Traitor?_ Illya thought. As Ahct began to walk away, she stomped forwards, not to be deterred. "Where is my daddy?!" she demanded once more.

Acht turned, fixing her with a glare as icy as the frost covering the castle. He said coldly, "He is dead." Again, he walked away, paying no heed to the sorrow-filled wails of Illya.

* * *

 **A/N: Is it just me, or are all of the adults shown in** _ **Fate/Stay Night**_ **psychopaths? The only exceptions I can think of are Saber and Irisviel, and they both later become corrupted and evil. Granted, magecraft is some pretty weird stuff, but still. I also cannot help but notice that not a single human Einzbern has ever been shown, which I cannot help but be curious about. Another thing I am wondering about is whether or not the Grail just grants one wish, or one for a Master and one for a Servant? This has never been made clear to me, and everything I read is vague on the subject. Everyone in canon talks as if it was the latter case, the Master and Servant never competing for which of their wishes should be granted. And lastly, correct me if I am wrong, but noble houses and clans are traditionally supposed to have tons of branches and dozens of members. Why is it that each mage family - clans, I might add - only has a handful (if that much) of members?**

 **In case you could not tell, this Shirou is even more messed up than the one in canon, and it is not just because he is raised by Kirei. I know that in canon, distortion was just a way Rin used to describe how warped Shirou's way of thinking is, but in this fic, I am making it an actual thing. And let me tell you, distorted people are FUCKED UP.**

 **Credit for being the beta reader of this chapter goes to Cardinal Grief.**

 **Speaking of betas, I am currently beta-reading Cardinal Grief's** _ **Fate/Stay Night**_ **fic 'Archer of Black'. Basically, Shirou gets some actual training from Kiritsugu and winds up getting sent back in time to the medieval ages, where he will eventually encounter our favorite swordswoman. It is very well written, and I highly recommend it.**

 **Like I said earlier, I hope to have the next update out in a couple of days, and I have already written most of it due to planning to release it alongside this one. There actually is not as much happening right now as I would like, which is why I cannot wait for the last part of the chapter, which will have a big reveal.**

 **Read, review, and trace on.**


	3. 1: Halcyon Days, Part 2 (7 YEARS AGO)

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own Fate/Stay Night or any other elements of the Nasuverse. If I did, then instead of reading this fanfic, you would be watching a spinoff.**

 **A/N: Greetings and salutations, fellow fic fanatics! This is the second part of Chapter 1: Halcyon Days. Still exposition, but it showcases Shirou on his first executor mission. There is a fight scene, but it is not terribly descriptive. I was taught that a descriptive fight takes away from the mood, but if you readers want to see some description, I will give the fights involving Servants plenty of detail. And you see a bit more of how screwed up Shirou is, which will probably appear at least once a chapter.**

 **Thanks for all the reviews! Apparently, people agree that most, if not all, of the adults in the Nasuverse belong in a mental institution. I got some interesting knowledge about the Einzberns, which is that they are all homunculi or, in the case of Acht, golems. I already knew that the Servants were intended to be sacrificed, but I meant what they thought was going to happen (I did find that out as an affirmative, but I probably should have made that clear). As for the mage families, I knew only one person inherited the crest and leadership of the clan, but was not sure about where all the rejects went, especially since they could inherit all of the research, just not the crest. Now I know that most founded branching families, none of which have actually made an appearance in the universe.**

 **Bonus: there's an omake at the end of the update!**

 **Amatsumi -** You seem to be under the impression that Kirei altered Shirou's personality to make him polite, respectful, and/or subservient. He didn't, he was only able to make it so that Shirou wouldn't remember Kirei killing Kiritsugu, and even that wasn't very effective or safe. I can see maybe one or two traits this Shirou shares with the one in 'Tainted Ideals', but not much else in common. He's almost a tabula rasa in that he is pretty empty after the fire. He absorbs most things as knowledge, hence his initially awkward way of speaking, and also inherits Kirei's wit, along with one or two other habits. But some things will be his own, like enjoying a challenge (fighting and magecraft are his two favorite hobbies). He will also display several traits aligned with his origin (NOT sword) because I was disappointed that canon Shirou didn't actually act like a sword in really any way until he became Archer. After this Shirou discovers his origin, these tendencies will only grow stronger.

 **Guest -** Shirou is NOT an incarnation of sword in this fic. His origin and alignment are still identical, but he doesn't know what they are yet, and won't for a few chapters. I don't want to reveal it until then either, but I will say that it is infinitely more versatile, and more congruent to this version's personality.

"Dialogue" - "SHOUTING AT TOP OF LUNGS"

 _Thoughts/Flashback/Exaggeration_

" **Magecraft** "

* * *

 **Chapter 1.2**

 **Halcyon Days**

 **SEVEN YEARS AGO**

Shirou watched from the clifftop as the dead lumbered through the streets of the city. There were hundreds of them, all thoughtlessly stumbling forward to do their master's bidding. The buildings were mostly intact, but a few fires had already started to break out. Every now and then, a scream would ring through the air, another innocent being turned into a mindless puppet.

The target was a dead apostle, a human that had become a vampire through the actions of another vampire of similar nature. Contrary to popular belief, vampires like dead apostles could be killed by conventional weaponry, but their superhuman reflexes and abilities allowed them to not only see, but dodge a bullet fired from a gun. Combined with the curse of restoration, which allowed them to regenerate from even fatal wounds under the right circumstances, apostles were almost impossible for any normal human to kill. _Guess it's a good thing I'm not normal._

He was shaken from his thoughts as the executor in charge of the operation said to him, "This is your first op, right?"

Shirou nodded.

"You're Kotomine's son." It wasn't a question.

Shirou nodded.

"Then you should be prepared. You know, he was ten on his first op. Set the record for youngest executor. You look even younger. Trying to set a new record?"

Shirou was silent for a moment before saying, "I don't know how old I am."

The commander muttered, "Of course you don't." He sighed, before proclaiming to the group of executors, "We'll be starting in five minutes. Begin final preparations." He turned back to Shirou. "When I give the signal: do your thing."

As the commander went around to the other executors, Shirou looked over his equipment, making sure for the last time that everything was in order. He wore a bulletproof frock made from thick kevlar filaments, which, when taking into account that it was seamlessly covered in the church's special protection spells, would protect against most bullets. Combined with all of the reinforcement he'd poured into it, it would be impossible to pierce through the material with anything short of a black key.

The inside pockets of his robe were stuffed with the handles of Black Keys, an Executor's primary weapon, which would fully materialize upon having Prana passed through them. The black key was more dirk than sword, with a meter long slender blade and an extremely short hilt. Weighing one kilo, the weapon was oddly balanced and weighed more towards the tip. Anyone unfamiliar with the weapon would be at a severe disadvantage, but for Shirou, who had trained for years to master it and was still in said process, there was no weapon he was more comfortable with. Besides that, one of a dead apostle's greatest weaknesses were black keys in that the weapons were specifically designed to destroy anything inhuman and could negate the curse of restoration.

A quiver hung from his belt on his left and right, and a final quiver on his back, each stocked with twenty-four arrows.

Shirou inhaled deeply, imagining a gun. He cocked the hammer, exhaling as the familiar warmth of Od flooded his system. All twenty-seven of his magic circuits began to hum with energy, prana building up and ready to be used at his discretion.

He sent some of the prana into his limbs, reinforcing himself to about half of the most he'd ever tried to. Reinforcing, while an extremely basic skill for mages, had enormous potential. Most of his training in magecraft consisted of steadily increasing the amount he reinforced himself by little by little. Normally, he'd just perform structural analysis on the object he wanted to reinforce, sending a ping of prana like radar bouncing through the object to see how much reinforcement it could handle, but as he couldn't actually analyze it himself, combined with the infinitely greater difficulty of reinforcing a person instead of an object, he had to do it bit by bit. Probably the biggest benefit of this mind-numbingly slow increase was that he could now do it with little to no effort, instinctively reinforcing himself without having to monitor the results. And some day, if he could discover his maximum tolerance, he would be a force to be reckoned with.

The commander placed his hand on Shirou's shoulder. "All right, kid," the man whispered. "Everyone's in position. Show us what you can do."

Shirou raised the silver cross from his neck, pressing his lips against the cool metal. Letting the cross fall back to his chest, Shirou held his hand out. Closing his eyes, he breathed deeply.

 _ **Judging the concept of creation.**_

The blueprint of the weapon filled his mind as everything else became noise in the background.

 _ **Hypothesizing the basic structure.**_

A light blue outline of the bow began to materialize before him.

 _ **Duplicating the composition material.**_

The bow began to take shape, the blue outline being replaced by solid matter.

 _ **Imitating the skill of its making.**_

The speed of its realization increased.

 _ **Sympathizing with the experience of its growth.**_

Magecraft had given it power.

 _ **Reproducing the accumulated years.**_

It barely had any history, and aside from the properties it had gained through magecraft, it was just a nameless bow.

 _ **Excelling every manufacturing process.**_

The bow came to life in his hand.

Shirou opened his eyes, setting them on the Japanese bow now gripped firmly in his hand. It was an ugly and crooked thing, but still managed to function properly as a bow. Matte black paint covered the many runes he'd enchanted it with. It was his first mystic code, and a powerful one at that. It was oversized for him and would normally require a fully-matured adult to pull the string back all the way, but reinforcement could take care of that easily enough.

It wasn't an actual weapon, but rather a projection, an object materialized by shaping prana into the material composition and design of an object imagined by the mage. Shirou reached into the quiver on his back, pulling out one of his most dangerous mystic code arrows. He nocked it to his bow, muscles straining as he further reinforced himself and pulled the string back. His circuits hummed as prana flowed into the arrow, energy crackling in the air as blue-green light enveloped the bladed tip.

He let the arrow fly, and watched as it shot up into the air before arcing downwards, the only sign of its descent a slight whistle. The arrow came down upon a cluster of dead. An explosion marked its contact.

These mystic codes were some of Shirou's favorites. He called them 'explosion arrows' for lack of a better name. The title, while unimaginative, was accurate. Fire runes such as Ansuz and Sowilo were only a few of the runes engraved on the arrows. He'd specifically engineered it so that as soon as he loaded them with enough prana, they'd explode upon contact with any object.

He squinted, judging the radius of destruction. _Two meters. Not bad._ As the other executors went into the city, he nocked another arrow, letting it fly in the direction of the dead apostle. Even if it hit, it probably wouldn't kill the target, but whether or not it struck, the apostle would still be disoriented. He had ten explosion arrows left in the quiver on his back, and the quivers on his hips only had explosion arrows. Fifty-eight left in total. One by one, he let them all fly, some to herd the dead into large clusters, and others to eliminate said clusters.

By the time he was done, multiple fires covered the city in a blanket of heat. Taking off the quivers on his belt, he thought, _All right, time to take stock. I have twelve arrows left in the quiver on my back, each enchanted so they'll cut through dead easily. If need be, I can project another arrow. My bow isn't any the worse for wear, but it isn't like I need to preserve it anyway since it's a projection. My circuits are still close to full capacity. I have one hundred black keys stored in my frock, and it will require less than a single prana unit to materialize each blade. There are twelve other executors already down in the city; three of them are trainees but the rest are fully trained, including one senior. The dead apostle is one of the weaker ones, but he's already turned about half of the city's inhabitants into dead, with a good quarter of those already taken down by my arrows and the combined efforts of the other executors. Most of the rest of the civilians have likely already been killed. All in all, good odds for me coming out of this alive. Bad for saving many of the people._

Shirou drew up to his full height of one hundred forty centimeters, cutting an imposing figure for a boy only about nine years old. He slid down the side of the cliff, dirt and gravel rushing past him as he entered the city. Holding his bow in one hand, he materialized a single black key in the other.

The first dead he came across was a middle-aged man, its eyes red, skin pale, and suit covered in tears and scratches. It was a simple task to use his black key to cut off the head. The thing didn't even have time to acknowledge him. Shirou stood over the corpse, watching as the pale semblance of life left the body.

Rin had told him that after this she would be there for him, to console him if he felt regret for his actions. She'd told him that taking a life would be something that would probably haunt him forever.

But he felt nothing. Could it be because he didn't recognize the creature he'd ended as a living being anymore, regulated as it was to an eternity of servitude? Would he feel anything if he took the life of the apostle, a living, albeit evil, being? Would he feel anything if he took the life of some regular innocent? Or would he always feel this emptiness, the same emptiness that had followed him ever since the fire?

He continued on, walking deeper into the city. He lost count of the amount of dead he dispatched after around thirty. He would occasionally come across someone who hadn't been turned yet, an immensely frightened individual, who he would direct to the closer of the two exits where a team of executors was lying in wait to erase their memories of the incident. Once or twice, he saw the black frock of a fellow executor, and would immediately go off in the opposite direction. There was no point in two of them covering the same area. Several times, he felt the presence of someone watching him, but whenever he suddenly whipped around to catch them, there was no one there.

He found himself searching through a burning building, his fire-retardant frock protecting him from the flames, and the protection spells preventing the heat from getting to him.

"Help me," a child's voice pleaded. He turned his head to see a trembling little girl standing amongst the flames, fear in her eyes. "Please, help me."

Setting the bow down and drawing the prana back in from the black key so it would dematerialize, he slowly walked toward the child. "It's all right," he said soothingly. It wouldn't do to frighten the girl and have her run off. He didn't imagine a strangely dressed boy in black with a bow, arrows, and oversized knife would be very comforting to a terrified child. He couldn't help but feel Rin would be proud of him for his immense insight, as she so often was. Maybe then he could ask her to finally tell him what sarcasm was. Sarcasm… such a beautiful word.

He knelt before the girl and asked softly, "What's your name?"

Tears in the corners of her eyes, the child smiled, eyes crinkling. When her eyes opened again, they were a bright red. She opened her mouth, teeth catching on one of his gloved hands. The girl - no, the dead - pushed him down, trying her - its - best to gnaw off his left hand. With his right, he struggled to push the dead off, but even with his reinforced strength, the dead's mindless determination was stronger. He gritted his teeth as the dead's jaw finally gave way, but it was only by a millimeter, and the result was the dead's teeth ripping into the glove and his flesh. Shirou ignored the pain as he felt heat flow down his hand. If the Dead managed to consume even a drop of his blood or flesh, then it would be infinitely harder to defeat.

Just as Shirou was beginning to consider reinforcing his strength beyond what he'd already defined as safe, steel flashed in the corner of his eye. A black key flew into the little girl's forehead, sending the walking corpse flying into the wall, flames beginning to lick at the body. The commander executor stepped into Shirou's view, decapitating the dead with the swift flick of a second black key.

The man looked at Shirou, the previous warmth gone from his stony gray eyes. He said, "Never let your guard down."

Shirou could only nod dumbly as the man collected his black key and went on his way. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. He wouldn't be making the mistake of underestimating anyone ever again. He took off his glove. Thanks to the reinforcement he'd applied to it, the wound was very minor, and the bloody teeth marks were already in the process of fading out of existence. According to Rin, if he practiced reinforcement enough, he might be able to reinforce clothing to the point of being harder than boiled leather, but until then, he was stuck with gloves that would only soften the blows. Pulling the glove back on and collecting his weapons, he walked over to the girl's corpse.

He'd nearly died because he hadn't expected a trap. If it hadn't been for the commander, he would have probably died, his flesh consumed to make the dead and its apostle stronger. He simply couldn't afford to make that mistake again. But if he couldn't push off one of the apostle's minions, one half his size at that, how was he supposed to stand up to the actual dead apostle?

For a moment, looking down at the dead little girl, he felt a hint of sadness wash over him. And then it was gone.

* * *

Shirou was currently in one of the few buildings not yet on fire, silently observing the dead apostle only twenty meters away. The apostle had the appearance of a young man in his early twenties, his good looks countered by the feral grin on his face as he ordered his dead familiars to destroy the city.

Shirou had three arrows left in his quiver. He nocked one to his bow, and as he let it fly, knew it would hit the target. Or at least it would have if the target hadn't moved.

The dead apostle dodged the arrow by mere millimeters, turning his evil grin towards Shirou. Shirou let loose the other two arrows, allowing himself a smirk as, while one was dodged, the other embedded itself into the Apostle's arm. The smirk disappeared as the apostle wrenched the arrow out of his flesh, the wound already healing thanks to his curse of restoration.

In the blink of an eye, the apostle was before him. The vampire swung his arm at him, and even as Shirou raised his bow to block, he could feel the strength in the blow. Shirou grimaced. _I need time,_ he thought. Black keys were the ultimate weapon against apostles, but to fire his bow he needed the use of both hands, and was unable to carry any black keys in preparation. So he did the most logical thing one would do when trying to buy time in a fight against a male: he kicked his enemy in the balls. Dead apostles were durable, but even they could be disoriented by pain. He'd witnessed Rin use this very same technique on Kirei many times.

He backed away from the now kneeling apostle, throwing his bow to the side and materializing three black keys in each hand, holding a hilt between each knuckle. He brought his hands down in an arc, sending the six swords hurtling towards the apostle even as he materialized another six black keys. Only two of the swords hit their target, and neither of them stayed in the Apostle, but wherever the blades touched, smoke rose from the vampire's flesh. Shirou ran forward, bringing about one hand to slash at the apostle. The Black Keys were meant to be throwing weapons, but Shirou always performed better in direct melee.

It quickly became apparent that Shirou was fighting a losing battle. Although he was a vastly more skilled fighter than his opponent, said opponent had, in exchange for his humanity, gained immense power. Shirou would slash expertly, and the apostle would easily dodge out of the way. The apostle would throw a sloppy punch, and Shirou would twist until it was only a glancing blow, but still one that sent pain throughout his body.

Even so, Shirou found himself smirking. Adrenaline rushed through him, his heart pounding in his ears. This wasn't like his spars against Rin where he utterly dominated his opponent, nor was it like his spars against Kirei where he was the one dominated by his opponent. For the first time in his life, he was facing an enemy who was only slightly stronger he was. He was bound to lose this fight, but he couldn't help but relish in the challenge. Because he wouldn't lose this fight; it was far too much fun for that.

Out of the corner of his eye, Shirou spotted a man in a frock standing on the sidelines, merely observing with stony gray eyes.

Shirou reinforced himself more than he'd ever dared to, pleasantly surprised when none of his muscles spasmed in pain. He moved faster, hit harder, and fought better. But he was still losing. For all of his increased speed and strength, the Apostle was almost too fast for him to track, sending punches anywhere there was an opening. If he didn't find something to help turn the tables, he'd lose.

 _Think, Shirou, think!_ His opponent was faster and stronger than him. Despite being the victor in skill, he was losing against an opponent that he couldn't hope to match in power or speed. _If only I could predict where he strikes._ The blows were coming left and right, each and every one of his openings being exploited. _The openings…_ The apostle had never targeted anything but an opening. _So my openings are the key. If I control the openings, then I control where my opponent hits. If I control where my opponent hits, then I can block it._ It was a suicidal idea. But Rin had already called him suicidal plenty of times; he doubted she'd mind doing it once more.

But first he'd need time. Yet again, he performed the technique he'd seen utilized against Kirei so many times: he kicked his opponent in the balls. The apostle hissed as he yet again fell to its knees, brought down by this truly fearsome technique.

Shirou backed away, settling into a new stance. It had much less holes than his favored stance, but there was one glaring opening: his throat was wide open, practically begging to be attacked. And what vampire could possibly resist going for the throat?

True enough, the apostle sent a punch towards his throat, only to have his hand sliced off by a black key. The apostle hissed in pain, but it grew into a scream as Shirou rammed three black keys into the monster's stomach. The vampire stumbled backward, flames already starting to eat away at him even as smoke rose from his stump of a right hand. With another slash, the head of the apostle thumped against the floor, his body already consumed in holy fire. For good measure, Shirou stabbed a black key through the apostle's forehead, pinning the disembodied head to the floor.

 _If it can turn the tables this easily, then I am definitely using that style again._

Shirou turned to the commander, who had been watching the battle the entire time. Still smirking, Shirou asked, "How'd I do?"

* * *

"James said you performed admirably," Kirei said over the buzzing of the tattoo gun. "Congratulations, singlehandedly defeating a dead apostle at your age is quite the feat."

"Wow, praise," Shirou said. "Either I did something very right, or you're severely messing up the tattoo."

Ignoring the jab, Kirei said, "He also told me you came up with a very… interesting technique."

Shirou nodded. "If my opponent is too fast for me to see the strikes coming, then I need to make it so that I can know where the strikes will hit. I can do that by leaving openings in my stance."

"I hope I don't have to warn you that that is an immensely risky style of fighting."

"Don't worry, I'm sure Rin will give me enough of an earful for the both of you."

"Shirou," Kirei said, setting down the tattoo gun. "I want you to promise me you will not let yourself die. I've put far too much effort into training you to let it all go to waste."

"Wow, _Dad_ , I never knew you cared." At Kirei's insistent stare, he sighed. "Fine, I promise I won't let myself die. It isn't like I had any plans to, anyway."

Satisfied, Kirei nodded. "The tattoo is done." Gesturing towards the body-length mirror and wiping his hands off with a rag, he said, "Take a look."

Shirou stood before the mirror, gazing at the reflection of a strength Rune tattooed on his right pectoral, the flesh around the black ink a raw red. Activating a magic circuit, he prepared to let prana run through the tattoo.

"I wouldn't do that," Kirei warned. "It won't be stable enough for prana to safely flow through it until the tattoo settles. Even then, you should go at a pace similar to your reinforcement and test only a little prana at a time."

Shirou nodded. The last time he'd tried to activate a rune with too much Prana, it had exploded in his face… literally. He didn't want to find out what would happen if it exploded while on his chest. "Fine. When can the next rune be applied?"

"In a week. We need to make sure it won't have any negative side effects. If the next few applications proceed without any complications, then we can begin applying the runes daily."

Pulling on a shirt, Shirou said, "All right, I'm going to Rin's. She probably wants to give me that earful right about now."

* * *

 **OMAKE**

Shirou fell on his stomach with a groan, tapping his sweaty palm against the training mat twice. "Alright," Kirei said. "That is enough for today."

"Not so fast, Kirei," Rin protested, standing up from the bench on the sidelines. "I want to fight you."

Shirou, face still buried in the mat, said, "Don't even try it, Rin. Kirei beat me in less than two minutes, and I beat you in even less than that. You don't stand a chance against him."

Rin said imperiously, "I will thank you kindly not to underestimate me, Shirou." A dangerous gleam entered her eye as she said, "I've come up with an ingenious technique that will allow me to beat even Kirei."

"Oh yeah, then why didn't you use this 'ingenious technique' on me?"

"I value our friendship too much for that."

Kirei chuckled, "Very well, Rin. I will even give you the first blow."

"Good. Now are you going to move, Shirou, or will I have to make you?"

"Fine," Shirou groaned. He peeled himself off the mat and went to sit on the bench as Rin stood on the mat, glaring at Kirei. "This should prove entertaining."

"Your move, Rin," Kirei said, an indulgent smirk on his face.

Rin smiled cruelly as she kicked Kirei in the crotch. Surprise on his face, Kirei's hands moved to cover the stricken area, but Rin, still smiling, backhanded him, sending him sprawling to the mat. Rin spit on Kirei's prone form before turning to a gobsmacked Shirou, a superior grin on her face. For a moment, silence reigned. Shirou then prostrated himself on the floor and said, "Teach me, master!"

* * *

 **A/N: That's right. Shirou is a smartass. You're welcome. Think of his humor as a mix between Kirei's sadistic teasing, Rin's manipulation, and EMIYA's general snarkiness. Let me know what you thought of the fight scene since it is one of the first times I've ever written one, along with Shirou's general battle demeanor. Oh, and you don't have to worry about reading the entire seven steps of tracing whenever Shirou does projection; it will be shortened to trace on by the Grail War. Think of the seven steps as a prototype while he's still experimenting. Several other things were also meant as prototypes. The explosion arrows, for example, are meant to be an easier and less effective version of breaking a Noble Phantasm. The most obvious one, though, was probably his bow being similar to Shirou's bow in canon and a prototype of EMIYA's.**

 **How did you like Rin bitch-slapping Kirei? I honestly couldn't resist putting that in, it was just too golden an opportunity. Yeah… she really hates him. Can you blame her?**

 **Credit for being the beta reader of this chapter goes to Cardinal Grief.**

 **Most of you have probably already read 'Tainted Ideals' by Stormedge, but I'm going to go ahead and recommend it to those who have not. Like this, it is a FSN Shirou Kotomine fic. While he's walking among the flames of the Fuyuki Fire, Shirou is not found by Kiritsugu, but by the corrupted essence of the Grail which heals him and allows him to live (and gives him a different origin). But the price is he has a passenger along for the ride.**

 **The next update is already mostly finished (and short) and should be released in a few days if all goes well. A week if not.**

 **Read, review, and trace on.**


	4. 1: Halcyon Days, Part 3 (3 YEARS AGO)

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own Fate/Stay Night or any other elements of the Nasuverse. If I did, then instead of reading this fanfic, you would be watching a spinoff.**

 **A/N: Greetings and salutations, fellow fic fanatics! This is the third part of Chapter 1: Halcyon Days. This is a very short update, but I still like it, and it just means we are that much closer to the reveal of a Servant next update. This update also reveals two Masters who will appear in the Holy Grail War. Hope you like my choices. You will probably be able to guess one of their Servants, but good luck with the other. I will give you a hint: it is my favorite Servant of all.**

 **Bonus: there's an omake at the end of the update!**

 **Akuma-Heika -** Yes, that is the exception, but I actually meant Einzberns currently alive. The founder was almost definitely a human mage. You are right that Avalon is in his chest and he is a blank slate, but I never said that his origin and affinity wouldn't be changed. Avalon will change them, and he will still be an incarnation, it just won't be sword. I actually call that Shirou 'Amakusa' so that I can avoid confusion, and he is not present in this world. From now on, I'll identify this one as FSN Shirou Kotomine.

 **Drow79 -** I don't really want to reveal any of the Servants (other than Caster, who I already revealed as Medea on my profile page) until they are revealed in-story, but I will confirm that Shirou's Servant is not Jackie the Ripper like in 'Tainted Ideals'.

 **SinForged -** I plan to keep what incarnation he is a secret for now. As for how powerful he is, even at nine years old he is far stronger than in canon at the beginning of the War, and towards the end I plan to have him be stronger than all of the versions, including HF. This increase in strength will start once his origin is revealed as it will allow him to use magecraft empowered by that origin.

"Dialogue" - "SHOUTING AT TOP OF LUNGS"

 _Thoughts/Flashback/Exaggeration_

" **Magecraft** "

* * *

 **Chapter 1.3**

 **Halcyon Days**

 **THREE YEARS AGO**

Tears welled up in the corners of Illya's eyes as she looked down at the bloodstained bandages covering her arms. She whimpered, "It hurts, it hurts. I don't want to do this anymore." She looked at her shaking hands, covered in maroon stained bandages. "Why do they do this? Why do they have to cut me every day?" She brought her hands to her face, about to let the tears flow, when she heard footsteps.

She looked out the wooden double doors to see two maids carrying a blanketed form on a stretcher. Silently, she crept out of the room and followed them, her curiosity compelling her. She followed them into a large room. The walls of the room were stone, and there was a gigantic pool of water taking up the space where the floor should be except for a stone dock. The pool seemed to glow with an ethereal blue light. The maids walked to the end of the dock and tossed the blanketed form into the water, the body making a splash before sinking. The maids walked past Illya on their way out.

Illya gazed down at the pool, giving a small gasp when she realized there were dozens upon dozens of lifeless bodies floating in the water. She whispered, "This Holy Grail War is stupid. Why don't they just stop it?"

Illya gasped again as an emotionless voice said, "We cannot. That war is our purpose. It is why we exist. The miracle occurred a thousand years ago." Illya turned her head in surprise to see one of the bodies sitting up in the water. It was the body of a woman. She had white hair in pigtails and blood red eyes, just like Illya's own. There was a spear through her heart, another through her side, and an arrow in her thigh. "We were created in an attempt to replicate that event."

"Magic?" Illya realized. "Humanity's salvation? That will only bring happiness to human beings. What do we get? What makes life good for us?!"

"We have no concept of what happiness is. We are only their tools. We are the used and not the users. It is doubtful that real joy has even been known by Elder Acht."

"Yes," another voice said. "We are nothing but tools meant to activate the Holy Grail." It was another female homunculus, her white hair flowing in the water. There was a spear through her heart too. "To that end, we have suffered for a thousand years. But at long last, they finally achieved you."

"I was… achieved?"

"Yes," yet another voice said. Her body was bent over the water, white hair dipping into the fluid. There was a halberd through each of her shoulders and a sword through her arm. "You are the Einzberns' crowning achievement. The result of their research on us. They will never create one superior to you, no matter how much time they choose to spend."

"They will give up if there should ever come a time when you are defeated," another voice said. There was a sword in her shoulder, a spear poking through her gut, and an arrow through her neck. "Elder Acht will turn off the power himself."

Illya gazed upon the countless bodies of female homunculi floating in their water, each suffering from a fatal injury.

"It is doubtful that real joy has even been known by Elder Acht."

"Everyone… will give up?" Illya asked. "You'll choose to stop living?"

"Yes. Then a millennium of research will end, and all the Einzbern efforts will come to a close. They will do it with a smile, saying they gave it their all but it was to no avail."

"That is horrible!" Illya protested. "You're all alive! Why should any of you have to die?! Shouldn't I be the one to die if I'm the one to fight?!"

"Sweet child, please don't mourn for us. Even if it was all for nothing, none of us will mind. Even if we cannot be saved, we will finally be freed of our obligation."

Tears flowing down her cheeks, Illya cried, "Duty, duty, duty! It's always duty! Who do the Einzberns think they are?! We never had the chance to live or love or have identities of our own!"

* * *

Gray's eyes fluttered open. Blearily rubbing the sleep out of them, she rose from the bed with a yawn. She walked to the bathroom to begin her morning routine, running the faucet and splashing water on her face. She looked up at the mirror, a noble face with pale blonde hair and bright emerald eyes staring back at her. Her eyes narrowed as she focussed on the three red markings on the back of her right hand, which definitely hadn't been there when she went to sleep the night before. The maroon symbols depicted what appeared to be a very pointy cross flanked by things looking similar to wings.

Sighing, she picked up her cellphone, quickly dialling a number. Unlike most mages, she and her mentor thought not taking advantage of modern technology was simply impractical, and had no qualms about using it. She held the receiver to her, and spoke, "Could you please put Lord El-Melloi II on the phone?"

* * *

Waver Velvet, now known as Lord El-Melloi the II, felt the beginnings of a migraine beginning to form as Gray told him over the phone of the three mysterious maroon markings that had appeared on the back of her right hand over night. Staring down at his own hand, where the symbol of a maroon sword flanked by ridged blades was located, he breathed, "Fuck."

* * *

The plum haired girl fell against the wall, her cheek red from where Shinji had slapped her. He sneered. First she had invaded his home. Then she had had the audacity to take his place as the heir of the Matou Family. As the eldest son, he should have been the only one fit to inherit the family magecraft. And he would have been, if he had the capacity for it in the first place.

The Matou Family, the once proud Makiri Family, was a five hundred year old family of mages that had once been one of the most prominent mage houses in the world. Recently, however, they lost that prestige. As the years went on, the family's potential for magecraft gradually faded out. Shinji had been born without magic circuits, which were essential for the practice of any magecraft beyond a geis contract. Even runes and formalcraft required od, however little, to work, and the only way for a non-mage like himself to provide enough of it was to put his own life in danger.

Sakura, meanwhile, wasn't even related to him. She'd been adopted because she had magic circuits. But not just magic circuits, she had an abundance of them, and all of them were high-quality. Grandfather had decided to train her to be the family heir. She wasn't even a part of the family, merely a stranger with exceptional luck, but she still possessed the one thing he coveted above all else.

Maybe he could have handled it if she took pride in that. He thought he even might have accepted it if she had flaunted it in his face. But no. Instead, she acted like he didn't even exist most of the time. She took absolutely no pride or pleasure in the privilege she had that he was unable to enjoy. And worst of all, she was so _submissive_. As a child, he'd often made fun of her, and she'd just calmly accepted it, never once fighting back. Now, no matter how much he hit her, she wouldn't do a thing. She'd just sit there and take it.

He hated it. He hated that this stranger, this _bitch_ , took what was rightfully his, acted as if it was some sort of great burden, and never fought back. It would have been better if she fought back. At least it would provide some entertainment.

Instead, she looked up at him, her purple eyes blank and dull as if she, like a child too young to comprehend the concept of harm, was completely ignorant of the danger he was posing to her.

Snarling, he grabbed the collar of her shirt with one hand, raising the other to strike her again.

"Let her go," a boy said coldly.

Shinji turned to see a boy his age standing there in the school hallway. He had bright red hair with a strand or two of white. His eyes were a deep golden. They were blank and dull, just like Sakura's. Shinji hated him already.

Shinji sneered. "Oh yeah, and what happens if I don't, tough guy?"

"If you don't within the next three seconds, then I will break your wrist."

Shinji sneered again. As if this nobody could or would dare to touch him.

"One."

Shinji turned back to Sakura.

"Two."

Shinji thought, _But that doesn't mean I can't teach him a lesson._

"Three."

Shinji whirled around, sending his left fist careening towards the boy's jaw in a hook. The boy ducked, and as Shinji stared into his previously blank eyes, for the first time in his life, he felt true fear. He'd thought he'd been scared whenever his father had drunkenly berated him. He'd thought he'd been scared whenever his grandfather had beaten him. But this was the first time he felt pure, unadulterated terror.

The red-haired boy's hand lashed out in a vicious strike to Shinji's gut, forcing him to release Sakura as he gasped for air. As Shinji's was on his way to grasp at his stomach, the boy grabbed the hand and swiftly and brutally twisted. Shinji screamed in pain as his wrist twisted with the sickening crunch of breaking bones.

Cradling his wrist, Shinji collapsed to the ground, tears forming in his eyes as he crawled away. But all he could think about was the boy who had done this to him. As Shinji had thrown the punch, the boy's previously dull and lifeless eyes had become hard as steel. And behind it all was a savage glee.

* * *

Sakura gazed at the boy that now stood over her. Why had he saved her? Didn't he know she was tainted? Didn't he know that she wasn't worth saving?

She looked at her adoptive brother, still crawling away as he cradled his wrist, who had hit her until this stranger had saved her.

"Are you all right?" the boy asked her.

Sakura wordlessly nodded.

The boy offered his hand, smiling gently. "Come on."

She took his hand, and the boy led her down the hall and away from Shinji. Finally finding her voice, Sakura asked softly, "Why did you help me?"

"Do I need a reason to help people?"

She was silent for a few moments, before asking, "Where are we going?"

The boy replied, "Rule #7: when you are injured, seek medical attention. The nearest medical facility is the nurse's office." The boy suddenly stopped, causing her to run into his back with a squeak. He turned around, slapping a hand to his forehead. "How could I have forgotten about Rule #1?" He looked at Sakura. "My name is Shirou Kotomine."

Staring down at her feet, Sakura said shyly, "My name is Sakura Matou." She looked back up at the boy, her eyes flicking to his golden orbs before she looked back down with a blush. "It's nice to meet you."

* * *

 **OMAKE**

"Come on," Rin pleaded, tugging at Shirou's arm. "It'll just take a second."

Shirou sighed. "Rule #8: never attempt to practice magecraft beyond your level of ability."

"Oh, would you stop with those silly rules? Who taught you them, anyway?"

"You," Shirou said flatly.

Rin sighed in mock exasperation. "The one time you listen to me."

"Try ninety-seven times."

"And here I thought you weren't any good at math." She turned around to face him, hands on her hips and nose in the air. "I told you, this stuff was beyond my abilities when I was five. Now that I've matured, I should be more than capable of handling this."

Shirou sighed. "I'm not going to convince you to not do this, am I?"

"Nope." She grabbed his arm again, tugging him down the stairs of the Tohsaka Manor. "Now, come on."

Giving in to her demands, Shirou allowed himself to be dragged on. Unfortunately, the sudden lack of resistance combined with throwing all of her weight into pulling him along caused Rin to fall over. She squeaked as she fell backwards, only to have an arm clutch her around the waist.

Pulling her close to him and away from the suddenly very steep looking drop, Shirou said mockingly, "Behold and cower before the mighty Rin Tohsaka, capable of mastering the darkest reaches of magecraft, but incapable of walking down a flight of stairs."

Suddenly aware of the _extremely_ close proximity to her friend, Rin's face turned a red brighter than her sweater. "Sh-shut up," she stammered weakly. Turning back to descend down the stairs, Rin breathed deeply, eyes closed. Continuing down the steps, she said, "Come, apprentice, and I shall show you just how… ah!" She squealed as, eyes still closed, she tripped and tumbled down the remaining stairs before landing in a heap on the landing, butt in the air and panties exposed.

Not even bothering to hide his amusement, Shirou said, "Need I say more?" Calmly walking down the stairs, he held out his hand and pulled her up. "Were you always this clumsy?"

Her face burning, there was only one thing on Rin's mind: _I blame Kirei._

* * *

Back in Fuyuki Church, Kirei sneezed. Rubbing his nose, Kirei said, "Hmm, Shirou must be embarrassing Rin again. If this continues at this rate, I'm going to need to stock up on tissues."

* * *

"I still don't think this is a good idea," Shirou warned for the upteenth time.

"For the last time, it will be fine," Rin said. She opened the door to her father's old workshop, breathing in the musty air and coughing as she inhaled dust instead. Once the coughing subsided, she said, "If it really bothers you so much, we'll leave as soon as I finish proving to you that I can handle anything these old tomes can throw at me."

Shirou sighed. He seemed to be doing that a lot lately. "As you wish, _master_."

Rin turned away from him to hide her blush. Even when he said it mockingly, she couldn't help but blush when he called her that. _Dammit, aren't the boys supposed to be the one with the raging teenage hormones?_ Shaking her head rapidly to clear away the image of a 'hormonal' Shirou, she coughed and said imperiously, "Then come, my apprentice, and let us delve into the dark and mystical aspects of magecraft." There, that should help her save face.

Shirou thought, _Why does she keep on talking funny?_

Flipping her hair, Rin went over to an indigo-bound book, pointedly ignoring the green one that had given her so much trouble when she was five. She set the book on a table, flipping open to a random page.

Everything went dark.

* * *

Groaning, Rin lifted a hand to her aching forehead. Her head was ringing. She blearily opened her eyes to see a blurry thing with red hair placing a wet washcloth on her forehead. Blinking rapidly, her vision cleared to view Shirou. The ringing having finally faded, she croaked out, "W-what happened?"

Shirou said, "The book exploded." Placing a hand on her cheek, Shirou said, "Are you alright? You're burning up."

Sure enough, Rin's face was aflame, though likely not for the reasons he thought. "I-I'm fine."

"So, still think you can handle whatever those old tomes can throw at you?"

Face still burning, Rin turned her head away from him. Luckily, she knew exactly who to blame for this fiasco. She muttered, "Damn you, Kirei."

* * *

Tissue at the ready, Kirei sneezed.

* * *

 **A/N: So… I just realized that this update is kind of depressing. First, Illya is off the surgery table for the day and discovers she's just a tool, then Sakura is abused by Shinji (which unfortunately won't come to a halt just because Shirou protected her this one time) and thinks she's worthless. Hopefully, the omake and Masters reveal brightened things up for you. Yes, Rin will continue to cuss like a sailor. 'Damn you, Kirei' is now officially her catchphrase. Let me know how you liked the omake and the rest of the update.**

 **Writing from Sakura's point of view is actually turning out to be a little difficult since you don't often get characters who think they are less than worthless. Angst and most other negative emotions I can do, but writing them so they come across as feeling like trash is kind of weird. Don't worry, this feeling of worthlessness will be diminished with Shirou as her friend and obvious yet oblivious crush. But how did you think I did for this little bit?**

 **In case you're wondering, Gray will be twenty-two by the Holy Grail War. I couldn't find much information on her other than she has an affinity with earth, looks like and is descended from Artoria (I am currently laughing as I imagine canon Shirou's reaction to this revelation), and possesses Rhongomyniad, so any info you have on her would be appreciated. Her personality is a complete mystery to me, so for now I'm having her be sort of similar to Artoria.**

 **Credit for being the beta reader of this chapter goes to Cardinal Grief.**

 **I have another FSN Shirou Kotomine fic recommendation: 'Birth by Fire' by Satire Swift. It is something of a prequel to 'Soul of Fire', which is a _Fate/Stay Night_ x _Sekirei_ crossover. Basically, Kirei finds Shirou and decides to raise him. Meanwhile, Shirou develops a sense of humor, becomes fast friends with Rin and Sakura (nicknamed by him as Tsun-Tsun and Dere-Dere respectively), and is very proficient at fire magecraft. Canon Shirou was forged in fire, Swift's was born in it.**

 **Next update will be the last part of the chapter and feature a big reveal: the identity of a Servant.**

 **Read, review, and trace on.**

 **PS. This is an actual update, not some April Fool's prank.**


	5. 1: Halcyon Days, Part 4 (2 MONTHS AGO)

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own Fate/Stay Night or any other elements of the Nasuverse. If I did, then instead of reading this fanfic, you would be watching a spinoff.**

 **A/N: Greetings and salutations, fellow fic fanatics! This is the fourth and final part of Chapter 1: Halcyon Days. Nothing much to say other than the reveal of the Servant is happening. Since I am posting this directly after the last update, there will not be a Q &A session until next time around.**

 **Edit: I added on a little after the summoning ritual, so if this was not here when you first read it, check it out.**

"Dialogue" - "SHOUTING AT TOP OF LUNGS"

 _Thoughts/Flashback/Exaggeration_

" **Magecraft** "

* * *

 **Chapter 1.4**

 **Halcyon Days**

 **TWO MONTHS AGO**

Illya stood before the formalcraft circle. Behind the circle was an altar, upon which was a slab of marble. "Have all the preparations been made?" Illya asked.

"Yes, mistress," Sella, Illya's maid, answered. "With this catalyst, summoning the strongest Servant is assured."

Nodding, Illya stepped forward until she was at the edge of the circle. It was blood red, arcane markings weaving intricately together to create an elegant piece of art.

Sella said, "We will now commence the Servant Summoning Ritual. The work done over the past years has placed magic circuits in over seventy percent of your body. An ordinary Master would receive far less Servant feedback than you will be feeling." She said concernedly, "Mistress, please use caution. Once the Servant is summoned, and until the Grail begins to supply it with prana, you may feel intense pain."

"I don't care," Illya said. "Let's get started." Blood red markings came alight all over her body as she charged prana through her circuits. Over the past years, dozens of artificial magic circuits had been surgically transplanted into her body. Now they all glowed a bright crimson, shining through her skin and clothes.

Illya intoned, "Fill, fill, fill, fill, fill. Repeat five times. But once each is filled, destroy it. For the elements: silver and iron. For the foundation: stone and the Archduke of Pacts. And for my great master: Schweinorg. Raise a wall against the wind and close the gates of four directions. Come forth from the crown and follow the forked road leading to the kingdom. Set." The circle began to glow with red light. "Heed my words. My will creates your body, and your sword creates my destiny. If you heed the Grail's call and obey my will and reason, then answer my summoning! I hereby swear that I shall be all the good in the world. That I shall defeat all evil in the world. Seventh Heaven clad in the great words of power, come forth from the circle of binding, Guardian of Scales!" Ethereal red light poured from the circle, filling the room, before it flashed white and died.

Illya coughed as smoke filled her vision, ignoring the pain as blood soaked through the sleeves of her jacket. "Did it work?" she asked.

She got her answer as the smoke cleared, and she gasped. A behemoth stood before her. The giant of a man was two and a half meters tall at the very least, the high ceiling looking significantly smaller by comparison, his very presence filling the room. The goliath had dark bronze, almost gray, skin, looking tougher than leather. Rippling biceps, muscles, and sinew seemed to make up his entire body, not an ounce of fat to be found. Except for the hair on his head, there was no follicle to be seen on the colossus, even his brows shaved. A lion's mane of unruly black hair tumbled down the giant's shoulders, strangely complementing his golden eyes. On his back, in a leather sheath, was a gigantic sword nearly two meters long and half a meter wide, the handle, wrapped in leather, peeking above the behemoth's shoulder. He wore nothing but a loincloth and, over that, a leather tunic dotted with steel. Cuffs of a similar material were on his wrists and ankles. The giant spoke, his deep voice sending vibrations through Illya's very core, "I am Servant Saber. Upon the Summoning, I have come forth. I ask of you, are you my Master?"

* * *

Black blood dripped from the many cuts on his body, thick as tar and as fluid as water, down into the black sea at his feet. The chains hanging from his arms jingled rhythmically as he strode forward, heedless of the immense pain he was in. A long, piercing scream filled the air, though he couldn't tell if it was someone else's, the echo of his own, or merely the biting wind. The world was dark, robbed of sunlight, yet it was somehow still possible to see, as if everything were bathed in shadow.

Lightning flashed, illuminating his bright gold, slightly crazed eyes, thunder rolling after it. Which was strange, as there was never any light here. His lips pulled back in a savage grin, revealing his sharp canines. He said, his hoarse voice barely a whisper, "I heed the Grail's call." The black sea boiled.

* * *

 **A/N: Surprise! Didn't see that coming, did you? Heracles is Saber. I know that Heracles is most suitable for the Archer class, but I feel like that's been done too much, and Nine Lives is more effective as a Saber anyway. Now before you start asking if Artoria, Arturia, Altria, or however you want to pronounce it, or anyone else for that matter, will be a Servant, I am going to say two words: NO COMMENT. Seriously, I know I revealed who Caster was going to be on my profile page, but from now on, you will only learn the identity of Servants as they are revealed in the story. It's more suspenseful that way. You can probably guess who Mr. Creeper is, but I won't spoil it.**

 **Credit for being the beta reader of this chapter goes to Cardinal Grief.**

 **This time I think I'll recommend 'Chaos Theory' by Moczo. You may have heard of him because of his many hilarious crack fics (I still laugh out loud whenever I think of 'Objective: Emiya'). 'Chaos Theory' isn't a crack fic, and contains a pretty good plot, but has its funny moments nonetheless, along with a running gag involving a thornbush. It hasn't actually been completed yet** **, but it's looking like it is going in an Illya x Shirou direction.**

 **I plan to release the next chapter all at once, but as I am going to work on updating my Code Geass fic at least one chapter, I don't actually know when that will be, especially since I'm being kept really busy lately. It will, however, show Shirou's daily routine, as well as a little look into the people in his life, along with preparing a whole bunch of things for later on.**

 **Read, review, and trace on.**

 **PS. This is an actual update, not some April Fool's prank.**


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